Psalm 47 (Omnes gentes, plaudite)

All people, to Jehovah bring
A glad applause of clapping hands:
To God a song of triumph sing,
Who high, and highlie feared stands,
Of all the earth sole-ruling king.

From whose allmightie grace it growes
That nations by our power opprest;
On foote on humbled countries goes,
Who Jacobs honor loved best,
An heritage for us hath chose.

There past hee by: hark, how did ring
Harmonious aire with trumpett's sound:
Praise, praise our God; praise, praise our king,
Kings of the world, your judgments sound,
With skilfull tunes his praises sing.

On sacred throne, not knowing end,
For God the king of kingdomes raignes,
The folk of Abrahams God to frend:
Hee, greatest prince, greate princes gaines,
Princes, the shields that earth defend.